


Not Exactly Age Appropriate

by GeniaTheParadox



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Parent!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-19
Updated: 2012-10-19
Packaged: 2017-11-16 15:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeniaTheParadox/pseuds/GeniaTheParadox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little parent!lock drabble. John doesn't think a game of 'crime scene' is very appropriate for four year old Hamish to be playing. But Sherlock thinks it's great.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Exactly Age Appropriate

The living room was a crime scene, and for once the mess wasn't caused by Sherlock.

"Honestly, John," Sherlock said, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "I don't know why you're grumbling. This was Hamish's idea."

"I'm not  _grumbling_ ," said John, rolling his eyes. "I just don't think that this is a very age-appropriate game to be playing with a four your old."

Before the two men could take their bickering any further, Hamish shushed them both. He was standing beside his father, looking for all the world like a miniature Sherlock Holmes wearing Buzz Lightyear pyjamas.

"Daddy, this is serious," he said in his tiny, lispy voice. "Father's helping me solve a murder. He says that every great consulting detective needs an assistant so Father's my assistant."

"And an excellent job I'm sure he's doing too," said John with a sideways look at Sherlock's proud smirk.

"Teddy's been murdered," Hamish continued, sounding very serious indeed as he pointed to his teddy bear lying in the middle of the room with masking tape outlining its body. "It was a single blow to the head and there are no signs of a struggle, and there are lots suspects because Teddy has a lot of enemies."

"You're given this a lot of thought, haven't you?"

Hamish nodded excitedly. "Uh-huh, Father said it's all in the details. I was just interviewing the suspects."

He pointed to the neat row of assorted stuffed animals and action figures lined up against the sofa.

"Monkey has an alibi," said Hamish. "And so does Optimus Prime; Penguin and Spiderman can vouch for him, but there's always the chance that's it's just a cover-up. Bunny and Teddy never liked each other, but Bunny swears she wasn't anywhere near the living room when the murder happened. And all of my Lego Harry Potter people swear that Hulk was in my room the whole time."

Hamish was staring at his pretend crime scene with his little hands steepled under his chin, thinking hard. John tried not to laugh, and Sherlock couldn't wipe the look of immense pride off his face.

By the end of the evening when the case was solved and Hamish was tucked up in bed with his now very much alive teddy bear – the skull on top of the fireplace had testified that Teddy's death has been an unfortunate accident all along – John and Sherlock were sharing one last cup of tea on the sofa together.

"I know it's pointless me saying this," said John, turning the volume down on the old episode of QI they were watching. "But I'm not sure I'm comfortable with you encouraging our four year old to investigate the brutal murders of his toys in the living room."

"And who said I was encouraging him?" said Sherlock, lounging back with his legs stretched out across John's lap. "As I very clearly told you before, it was all his own idea."

"And where do you think he got the idea from?" said John, rolling his eyes. "It was bad enough when you left that severed hand to defrost in the sink and he had nightmares for a week. And let's not forget the day I came home from work to find you teaching him about all the different types of undetectable poisons."

Sherlock shrugged. "I was in the middle of an experiment for a case and he asked me what I was doing."

"And," John pressed on. "I know you've been teaching him to deduce, which you promised not to do until he was older. You wouldn't believe the things his nursery teacher has been telling me, about how none of the other children want to play with him because he creeps them out. She's worried about his home life, and frankly I don't blame her."

"I fail to see what the fuss is about," said Sherlock. "Hamish is an intelligent child. I know you want him to be like a normal four year old, but you of all people should know how dull being around the  _normal_  can be."

"Hmm," John grumbled, rolling his eyes again.

Sherlock sat up and snuggled against his disgruntled husband.

"I also know," he said, surprisingly gently. "That you're worried Hamish is going to grow up to be a sociopath like his father. But he's a lot more like you than you realised. The whole reason why he set up his little crime scene is because he saw that I was bored not having a case in such a long time and he wanted to cheer me up. That has  _Watson_ written all over it."

John smiled in spite of himself. "I suppose that is quite sweet... in its own weird way."

"If it bothers you so much, Hamish and I will do something more age appropriate tomorrow."

"You can finally help him build that Lego pirate ship Mycroft bought him for Christmas."

"Mycroft only bought him that to annoy me."

"Sherlock..."

"Okay fine, we're pirates tomorrow."

"That's better."


End file.
